The Incredibly Cliche Journal of Bella Trower
by miss-blanche
Summary: School Year Resolutions: Must stop lusting over Remus Lupin, must stop lusting over Remus Lupin... Oh bollocks! Can't he be sexually unappealing for once? Hate him. Hate self. Hate resolutions. Need toast. Remus/OC. Marauders era.
1. The Incredibly Cliche Journal

**A/N If this sounds suspicously like Bridget Jones' Diary, it's because I've spent the last two days reading it and have been inspired to write this little piece about Hogwarts life in 1977. I really need to stop going off on random tangents... Anyway, enjoy! :)**

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**The Incredibly Cliche Journal of Bella Trower**

**September 1 - 1977**

_School Year Resolutions_

_- Must finish all work on time and stop procrastinating. The following excuses are not acceptable: Hunger, period pain, boy drama, Quidditch matches (don't even like Quidditch!), Quidditch parties or subsequent hang over from Quidditch parties._

_- Must stop lusting over Marlon Brando. Not healthy for a respected member of the wizarding community to lust over a muggle actor._

_- Must stop eating due to emotional stress!!_

_- Must stop stumbling out of bed in unruly fashion and stubbing toe on dormitory furniture._

_- Must brush hair at all times and appear respectable. Must not stuff hair in messy ponytail – gives professor's wrong impression. _

_- Must not get any detentions._

_- Must stop talking to Jeremy Lither. May result in the breakage of at least three of these resolutions._

_- Must love and find the goodness in everybody. Must not think bad thoughts about anyone. Must be as righteous as Jesus. _

_- Must be more politically aware. Must listen to Charlie's political rants more often. Must find out who minister of magic is. Must not be apathetic teenager._

_- Must… NOT… Lust… Over… Remus… Fucking… Lupin._

**6.30 am**

Oh God. Year is off to a horrible start already. Dreading school. Dreading NEWTs. Dreading presence of younger brother. Dreading constant letters from mother reminding me to work hard. Dreading finding out who the head boy and girl are. Dreading being under command of fellow peers. Dreading being a prefect for third consecutive year. Dreading the Quidditch matches. Dreading hearing Charlie's rants on the train as a result of all the political activity.

Am not finished packing. Hate packing. Younger brother is continually coming in and asking questions about Hogwarts.

"Bell, is it really true that Dumbledore feeds the Giant Squid?"

"Do you think I'll be a good enough flyer for the team?"

"Do you think I'll get put in Slytherin?"

_No, but Hagrid probably sneaks it meals from the great hall._

_Hell no. When God rained talent you were holding an umbrella kid. Besides, first years aren't allowed on the team._

_I bloody hope so. If you get put in Hufflepuff possibly will throw myself off Astronomy tower in despair._

Oh god. Am thinking horrible thoughts already and they're only about my brother. Oh God cannot handle another year of being a cynical bitch. Must be positive and upbeat. Must stop listening to Jeremy. Must be nice accepting Hufflepuff. Must be insufferably nice prat like Rosie Mercilia. Must stop hating Rosie Mercilia because she's an insufferably nice prat.

Virtuosity!! Righteousness!!

Obviously haven't had enough toast this morning. Should probably pack before getting breakfast. Yes, will pack all my things and then go down and devour seven pieces of toast smothered in butter.

**10.23 am**

Fuck. Knew I wouldn't get packed on time. Knew I should have packed before I ate breakfast. Why wasn't I born with more self control? Charlie will be panicking at this point… eek. Was supposed to meet her in London before heading over to Kings Cross together.

Oh God, now Father is yelling. Bloody hell. And brother. Kent has always been overly enthusiastic about getting to the train early. Of course, prior to this year it was always his eagerness to get me out of the house that was the cause of that. Bloody prat.

**10.46 am**

At this point, realise that I should have mentioned something about organisation in every day life in school year resolutions. Will be cutting it to get to _London_ by eleven let alone Platform nine and three quarters. It doesn't help that my Father has no concept pf driving in city traffic.

"Dad, there are no coppers around, you could speed up just a fraction-" I say fruitlessly.

"Bella I'm going as fast as I can," his shoulders are hunched over and he has the unmistakeable expression of someone who is suffering from inner city claustrophobia.

I sit back in my seat with a sigh. My father, who is a muggle, has no idea of what eleven means in the wizarding world. In the muggle world eleven means; as close to eleven as one can manage but the most important thing is that everyone is actually present, or similarly; better late than never. In the wizarding world, eleven means; ELEVEN, or better on time than never.

Tap my foot impatiently when Father waits for fifteen cars to go around the roundabout before him. The occupants in the cars behind us are shaking their fists. Feel like mirroring their actions. Hate father. Hate school. Hate muggle methods of transportation. Hate mother's insistence to spare Father's feelings by taking muggle methods of transportation.

Look at my watch and think of Charlie's irate expression. In all likelihood she will be heading over to the platform by now, having completely given up any hope of me meeting her at ten.

Think of train driver's expression. Assuming the Hogwarts Express even has a driver, have always wondered about that. He remains extremely inconspicuous if he does exist.

Mmmm… Wonder what Joyce thinks about this. Should suss out train driver in prefect patrolling.

Assuming my father gets around this roundabout anytime soon. Because if he doesn't I might spend my final year being home schooled by my neurotic mother.

Oh god… Need to get to the platform.

**12.30 pm**

Urgh. Have just remembered one of the fundamental reasons why I didn't want to get to the train on time. Have never liked prefect briefing on the train. Have hated it since fifth year. In fact, would go as far as to say I've hated everything about being a prefect since fifth year. Am sure Dumbledore got me and Charlie mixed up and really meant to make her prefect what with her unbreakable moral compass.

This year it was particularly boring. Am devastated by head girl choice. Lily Evans is up there with Rosie Mercilia in the insufferably nice stakes. Will not live through so much niceness at prefect meetings. Will suffocate. James Potter is a strange but appealing choice as head boy, may dilute some of Evan's niceness. But then he's liked her for ages, so maybe he'll just go along with whatever she says.

Of course, am depressed that I'm still mooning over Remus Lupin. Oh god, I have to get over him. Think we've exchanged at the most, about, what? Thirty seconds of conversation in seven years? Is it really possible to feel attracted to someone who I've only exchanged thirty seconds worth of conversation with?

Was quite annoyed about getting seated next to Rosie Mercilia, but was sitting quite comfortably ignoring her presence completely when he walked in.

It is illegal to be that intellectually sexy.

Oh shut up.

He was running his hand through his hair, looking tired and responsible, and managing to turn me on all at the same time.

Trying not look like a perverted freak, I averted my gaze. Stupid. Turning around meant I had to engage in conversation with Rosie.

When one is talking to Rosie, they are struck by one of two feelings. Either admiration, and the urge to be as kind and as righteous as she is, or the urge to throttle her for being so inhuman and shout; "Just fucking hate someone already!"

I wasn't alone at least; she was aiming her niceness at Lydia Johnson who like me, had the expression of someone who was on the verge of committing a violent act with a blunt instrument. But then, Lydia wears that expression seventy five percent of the time.

"Have a nice holiday Bella?"

I wanted to growl a no and get the hell away from her, but that would mean I'd be staring at Remus Lupin again which was socially unacceptable and slightly humiliating.

"Yes. Extremely nice." I said through gritted teeth. I tried to make myself feel admiration. It must have been very difficult for her to remain nice at all times. It must have taken a lot of effort. It must have been-

"Well that's good. You deserved a nice long break after all the hard work you did last year on prefect duty."

Oh god. Is it possible for someone to say something as unbelievably untrue as that and still look sincere?

I laughed quietly in reply. Johnson had the audacity to smirk. Stupid smug Ravenclaw. Hate Lydia Johnson even more than Rosie. At least Rosie is nice.

Ahah! Have had at least one nice thought to be proud of this year!

At that point, Evans wanted to monopolise everybody's attention and proceeded to do so by speaking loudly and in what can only be described as a teaching voice. Hate teaching voice. Hate condescending clarity of teaching voice.

Have come to the conclusion that I hate everything. Must stop hanging around Charlie and Jeremy. Must listen to Joyce only. All her hate is directed at men, particularly men who keep her up at night and cause her to eat because of emotional stress and gain ten pounds. Could use men dircted hate right now.

Remus listened attentively to everything Evans said and turned me on some more. Oh god. Why can't I be like normal people and lust over Sirius Black? Why must I put myself through the agony of the unreachable responsible Lupin?

Actually, for me Black is probably just as unreachable, if not more so. The man has a line of desperate slags after him. At the front of that line is Emmy Jones who looks like Marianne Faithful's twin. Hate Emmy Jones. The added bonus is she doesn't posses one intelligent thought in her tiny brain. Of course, that also means have had to listen to the audible version of her stupidity for the better part of seven years which is no easy feat. Shouldn't be bitchy because when God rained knowledge, was probably standing under the thought proof umbrella right long side Emmy (cue the pointless Remus Lupin lusting) but I do have some visible subtlety.

The prefect briefing ended with small input from Potter: "Just walk up and down the corridors for a while and if anyone is being a prat give them a detention." Wanted to laugh out loud at the irony of Potter saying this and dove out the door to do so without being stared at. Of course, in the name of all clichés and bad karma, I almost killed Remus Lupin in the rush. And then we did that noble bloody English thing where one says 'After you' and the other insists 'No, no, you go,' and ended up having a war of nobility which ended in me blushing, looking down at my feet and walking meekly out the door before him.

Hate self.

**3.45 pm**

Finally finished prefect patrolling, or more accurately, ridding the Hogwarts population of all the Slytherin prats and started finding my friends. They've have had this ritual since fifth year of picking the most inaccessible and inconspicuous compartment possible, just to irk me I'm sure.

When I first opened the door was annoyed because my brother had taken it upon himself to sit with them and be an all round pest. Hauled him out the door to his violent protest and shut the door behind him.

"Hate self." I muttered taking a seat next to Charlie.

Charlie (short for Charlotte) is one of those incredibly irritating people who likes to solve problems instead of moaning about them, and so with a roll of her brown eyes she said; "You have absolutely no reason to hate yourself. You do not have to feel inadequate because you did something embarrassing around Remus Lupin."

The fact that she knew what I was talking about gave me little solace. Had my moaning really changed so little over seven years?

"Why don't you just shag the guy and get it over with?" Joyce asked.

Didn't bother answering that one. Have my suspicions that she would laugh at my reasoning if I even attempted to.

"Is sex all you think about?" Charlie asked agitatedly.

"No, I just like annoying you." Joyce replied brightly.

"Want to know my theory lovely?" Someone asked sliding open the compartment door and slipping into the seat next to Joyce.

Lovely is Jeremy's nick name for me. He likes to remind me often that it's more an oxymoron than a nickname. The fact that he also knew what I was talking about (without even knowing I was talking anyway) made me feel even more pathetic.

"NO, I bloody don't." I exclaimed, "It'll be something dangerous and one of my school year resolutions is to not listen to anything you've got to say."

He chuckled and continued anyway; "You're putting the penis on a pedestal."

Rolled eyes. Is exactly the kind of thing Jeremy says on a regular basis, "Am I now?"

"Well you're putting Remus Lupin's penis on a pedestal anyway. And that's always a very bad thing to do. See, the problem most people have in relationships is that they make the other person out to be something great and spectacular when they're not."

"Doesn't matter anyway," I muttered smugly, "Have given up all Remus Lupin related thoughts."

Everyone smirked at me mercilessly. Hate friends. Very bad for self esteem.

The compartment door rattled precariously as a jovial seventh year entered the compartment. He squeezed himself between me and Charlie, who had on his entrance become incredibly interested with her left thumbnail.

"Nice summer Charlie?" He asked in such a convincingly earnest voice I thought for a moment he was actually interested in something other than just getting into her pants.

"It was wonderful not having to see you every day." She quipped so fast that I'm not sure he even understood what she said.

"Marvellous," He said with a grin, planting a kiss on her cheek, jumping up and rattling the compartment door on his way out.

"I hate that bloke."

"Use of colloquial language. Somebodies infatuated." Joyce waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

Charlie stared at her disgustedly, "No! Not ever!! Just… No! How do you know what colloquial means?"

"I am actually quite intelligent, even though you won't admit it." Joyce replied smartly.

"Oh right. But being totally apathetic about anything that matters in the world you wouldn't want to discuss the latest breech of goblin rights would you?"

"I'm sorry, the what?" Joyce asked feigning ignorance.

Charlie rolled her eyes; "You sicken me. I'm going to buy something from the trolley." And with that she walked out in a huff.

"School year resolutions?" Joyce asked, turning her attention back to me, still smirking about her win over Charlie, "What's that about."

"It's about me being a saint for the entire duration of this year." I replied with a sigh, "And so far it's not going very well. I just can't help but hate Rosie Mercilia."

Joyce then spent the next half hour giving me a detailed explanation of the theory she had concocted about Rosie over the holidays. Must admit it had dome validity, apart from the mention of extra terrestrial life and genetic mutations.

Am now playing pillow for Jeremy and feel like I shall never be clean again as he has drooled all over my t-shirt. Joyce is also looking at one of her witch weekly magazines lazily. Should probably get out my books and study or something. Is good idea to get ahead on school work, so that when I get assignments I will have so much knowledge that I can complete them without research.

Perhaps I'll close my eyes for five minutes first… Am a bit tired after the stress of seeing and lusting over Remus Lupin again.

Just for five minutes. Then I'll get to work. Will have fantastic NEWT results.

**6.00 pm**

Urgh. Hate feeling after waking up from day naps. Feel like shit. Am still being drooled on. Hate Jeremy. Will stop hanging around him soon.

Have dreadful feeling like we're almost there. That'd be just bloody dandy. Having only twenty seconds to change into my robes.

Oh bloody…

The train is stopping.

Shit.

**11.04 pm**

Oh god. Have only just remembered how cold it is in castle. Am bloody freezing. It's only September for god sakes. Urgh. My hateful cat is burying its head into my feet. Hate cat with vengeance. Is most horrible cat in Britain.

Am also slightly traumatised. Cringe every time I think about the most horribly embarrassing thing I did this evening after the feast. Which is about every five seconds or so. Consequently have been huddled in my bed for last half hour cringing continually.

Joyce accounts my horrible embarassment to her theory of accidence. This theory states that everything in life happens by accident (go figure!) The world was created by accident; some Neanderthal type man rubbed two rocks together and created fire by accident, etc, etc. Charlie on the other hand, accounts my embarassment to being too paranoid about being embarrassed. She's maddeningly unhelpful sometimes.

Was on brief prefect patrol after feast and was in charge of making sure no Hufflepuff's were roaming around castle after hours (of course they were).

I was innocently rounding a corner when out of nowhere I was attacked and hauled into one of Filche's broom cupboards. My attacker wasn't on the small side so I didn't entertain ideas of fighting him off. I tried to scream but then my mouth was covered by a rough hand and I had no hope whatsoever.

"Shut up lovely."

I rolled my eyes. Jeremy's dramatic tendencies were going to get him killed one day. I wouldn't always be helpless and inaudible.

"What's all this about?" I asked pulling away from him agitatedly and trying to fix up my now mangled hair. Bloody Jeremy.

"Kate is on the rampage."

I rolled my eyes. Jeremy and his girlfriend Kate are in one of those terribly complicated relationships that featured greatly in witch weekly's families and lovers section.

"What have you done this time?"

"Apparently we're having an affair." He said issuing me.

"And you thought you would disprove this theory by dragging me into a broom cupboard and giving me a dishevelled appearance?" I muttered incredulously.

From what I could see of his face from the small amount of light filtering in through the gap between the door and the wall, Jeremy had obviously not thought of this. I heard the fast footsteps of someone in conspicuously high heeled shoes and watched in delight as his face paled.

"Right… Yeah, that's probably a good point." He peaked out the gap, "God I hope she doesn't look in here. I wanted to save you the unnecessary effort of being cross examined by someone's who's obviously off their rocker."

"If she's so off her rocker, why on earth are you going out with her?"

"Another good point. But as they say, love is blind."

I snorted, "Love is not bloody blind."

"Why are you in love with Remus Lupin then?"

I opened my mouth to bite back with something cutting and smart but nothing came to mind so instead I closed my mouth dim wittedly. Stupid Jeremy.

"Well," I replied after a pause, "Love's not _so_ blind that you can be going out with a complete lunatic and not have the urge to get out."

"She's not a complete lunatic." He said defensively, "Kate has her good points. She certainly knows how to snog-"

"Urgh!" I exclaimed loudly.

He looked daggers at me and remembering that we were hiding from a possibly murderous lunatic I clamped my mouth shut fast.

The footsteps were slower now, adding to the suspense. Oh god. Kate was really going to go off her nut. I'd be the victim of Emmy and her group for weeks after this. And I had to share a dormitory with them. Bloody Jeremy. There was a good reason I had a school year resolution to stay away from him.

There was a brief pause, the footsteps stopped and there was complete silence. For a moment I thought that perhaps we'd gotten away with it. Perhaps she's been walking away and the footsteps we'd heard were simply getting slower because she was-

Suddenly the door was wrenched open and light flooded in. I covered my eyes instinctively, cursing myself for doing so because Kate would probably go for the hair first.

I waited for the scream and following slap but heard nothing. Strange. Oh no… Maybe she had turned into one of those silent killers that said nothing… Oh god… I hated Jeremy.

And then, someone else spoke; "Filch is on his way up here so I'd get out now if you don't want to spend the next four weeks in detention."

Oh. Bloody. Hell.

I lowered my hand slowly, my heart not really beating at its usual rhythm.

There he was, right in front of me, the epitome of bookish sexiness, smirking like a smug cat that got the cream.

As I replay the moment when I lowered my hand and he raised his eyebrow, I get the urge to take my bedside lamp and hit myself over the head with it.

I cringe again as I remember his next little tibit; "So I assume you don't want me to tell Lily that you weren't listening to her speech this morning about setting examples for other students?"

Feel slightly annoyed that he was so smug about the whole thing. Mostly though I'm worried that he thinks getting off in broom cupboards is something I do on a regular basis. He probably thinks I'm the slag of all slags. I wonder if he thinks I'm going out with Jeremy. Oh God… Hate self more than ever.

All in all, very bad start to the year. Was not one of my resolutions to stop mooning over Remus Lupin? Oh get over it Bella. Think of… Marlon Brando!

Oh dear… Was supposed to be giving him up too.

Hate school year resolutions.

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**Reviewers will get an incredibly smug Remus Lupin to do with what they please ;)**


	2. Navy Metaphors and Resolution Renovation

**A/N Just a quick note to say that my tense changes are intentional. I hate changing tense when I'm writing but in this it's logical because there are points in this story when she's actually writing when something is happening (present) and points when she's writing something that has happened earlier (past). Anyway, enjoy :) **

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**Navy Metaphors and Resolution Renovations**

**September 3 – 1977**

**11.12 am**

Urgh. Woke up this morning to the unpleasant sound of Kate crying about hydrangeas. Was too tired to catch the entire point of conversation but picked up the basic gist: "He never buys me roses! Hydrangeas are not romantic!"

Stumbled out of bed and consequently stubbed my toe on the leg of my bed. Hopped to bathroom to clean my teeth and immediately wished I hadn't because my appearance was so depressing I felt like hurling myself off the astronomy tower.

I walked down to breakfast and was depressed some more by Joyce who sat at the Hufflepuff table, unashamedly detaching her lips to some fifth year Slytherin whom could have passed as Robert Redford. Charlie was observing said lip detaching over the pumpkin juice jug with great disdain; ripping a piece of toast apart vindictively.

Mmmm toast. Know obsession with toast is not entirely healthy but after waking up to Kate wailing it seemed too appealing to pass up.

"I'm thinking seriously of marching up to Professor McGonagall and asking her to rectify this situation so I don't have to suffer years and years of psycho therapy." Charlie muttered glaring at Joyce.

My morning got duller and more depressing as it progressed. Have come to the conclusion that happy people refuse to think unhappy thoughts and that that is why I spend my days moping and eating too much toast – unhappy thoughts.

Therefore, will be upbeat and positive. Does not matter that Joyce always has adequate male company and that Remus Lupin does not acknowledge my presence (unless of course I'm shacked up with Jeremy in a broom cupboard – hate Jeremy) and that I have countless assignments already and it is only the second day of term. I am alive and healthy and have potentially fantastic legs (just need to enforce my no eating due to emotional stress resolution.)

Am currently in Charms. The novelty of watching objects fly around the room at break neck speed wore off in second year and now all the entertainment Professor Flitwick offers is a frightfully loud classroom where one can do whatever one likes without being noticed.

Joyce is currently discussing with Ravenclaw friend Jane the advantages and disadvantages of younger hook ups. Am slightly mortified that I am at the same table as them while they have this conversation.

"They put you on a pedestal," Jane says wisely, "It makes you feel really powerful."

Am currently wondering about the obsession with people putting their respective loves/hook ups on a pedestal. Is entire world on a bloody pedestal? Need to get new friends with expanded vocabularies.

Wonder though if Jeremy's theory about me putting Remus Lupin on a pedestal has some validity. Perhaps he's right.

_Evidence that I put Remus Lupin on a pedestal_

_- Believe he is much too popular for me._

_- Will not look at him in case he is looking back (believe that if he looks at me he might be repulsed to the point of physical illness.)_

_- Believe that am not nice enough. AM not nice enough_

Oh bollocks. Bell just went for Transfiguration. Got to go.

**2.07 pm**

Ended up being late for Transfiguration. Had to sit next to Jeremy because seat next to Charlie was taken by Jack (her train enthusiast – she was consequently leaning away from him at a dangerous angle the entire lesson). Am still not speaking to Jeremy.

He sent note across table to apologise for the Remus Lupin broom cupboard debacle.

_Don't be angry lovely, hard to get is a big turn on. Now he knows you're unavailable you'll be out of his reach._

I gritted my teeth and tried to ignore the note. Jeremy didn't know what he was talking about. Stupid prat. Tried to ignore urge to tell him he was stupid prat. Tried very hard…

Ended up grabbing note furiously and writing a brief and impersonal reply; "You stupid prat!! We've never exchanged more than thirty seconds worth of conversation!! Your hard to get theory might have some sort of basis if he actually noticed me enough to realise I was unavailable. It probably didn't even bother him at all finding us in a broom cupboard. Oh god… I am such a loser… Do you really think I'm putting his penis on a pedestal?"

He snorted indiscreetly and sent back a fast reply; _yes of course you are. What you need is the four week confidence plan._

Sounded suspiciously like the sort of thing I was trying to avoid when I thought out my school year resolutions. Knew I shouldn't listen to Jeremy. Knew… But was still curious.

Care to explain?

He took a while to reply; he sat in his seat writing away in his messy handwriting for so long I thought my nails were going to disintegrate from my nervous biting. Finally replied with; _simple. Week one: Locate your target. Get to know the enemy. Find all traces of weaknesses and strengths and play on them. The more you know your target the more likely you are to be confident around them. In the case of Remus Lupin, you might want to try the library, the Gryffindor common room, the library, perhaps detention if his mates are up to their usual business, the royal bookish pansy club_ (he received a glare of contempt when I read this)_ and possibly the library. Week two: move in. Be in target's eye line at all times. Drop casual hints that you are decent human being; these might include smiling kindly or offering to take his books back to Madam Pince. Week three: Approach. Talk to target. Do not talk about anything deeply profound or eccentric. Discuss the weather, assignments, boring trivial facts that give you the confidence to talk to him on an ordinary boring level before working way up. Perhaps ask for his help on assignments. Look absolutely stunning. Do not moan and whinge about anything. Be upbeat and positive even when discussing the wand movements of the Smorgish charm. Do not broach any subjects that may lead to you being tongue tied. Week four: subtle destruction. Begin flirting, Touch target occasionally, whether this means getting an eyelash off his face or patting him on the back (the former is somewhat pathetic though.) Make sure flirting is not obvious and blatantly over the top. May begin broaching more personal details at this point. At end of week casually suggest walk in the grounds or (heaven forbid he actually can leave the library for social activity!) accompaniment on Hogsmeade trip._

When I was finished reading his novel, it crossed my mind briefly that Jeremy was an incredibly strange boy.

**6.03 pm**

Shall follow gut instincts and stick to resolutions. Shall not moon over Remus Lupin. Shall not listen to Jeremy. He's a prat. Shall not undergo four week confidence plan. Shall remain single and get good NEWT marks. Am perfectly happy as independent unit. Am marvellous person. Do not need boyfriend to complete life.

Strength in solidarity!

Shall now start transfiguration homework. Perfect time to start. Am such marvellous person that can be finished with it in an hour and then start on Charms. Do not need Remus Lupin's help. Am perfectly capable, independent woman of the seventies. Ha ha!

**10.07 pm**

Have finished transfiguration. Am convinced that it's all wrong. Charlie is unfortunately absent and cannot mark it. Oh dear. Hate homework. Hate being independent.

**12,04 am**

Am feeling horrible. Why is Charlie not back yet? Don't want to know why Joyce is not back yet but wish she was. Why am I stuck on my own? Oh god. Even bloody Kate is out which means she is no longer mad at Jeremy and that they are probably shacked up in the room of requirement doing God knows what…

Am pathetic loser. Have no friends. Have no boyfriend. Have no intelligence.

Need toast very badly right now. Would prefer chocolate covered toast but don't have any chocolate… Mmmm… I wonder if I could find some in the kitchens…

No! Must resist eating due to emotional stress! Am perfectly capable, independent woman of the seventies who does not need friends, boyfriend, intelligence or food to succeed in life. Will go to bed and wake up feeling refreshed and vitalised.

**12.12 am**

Oh sod it. Am going to kitchens to get half a piece of toast. The house elves are such darling little things…

**September 4 – 1977**

**5.30 am**

Urgh. Kate is crying again. Some momentous disaster has occurred in which she feels it appropriate to smear her mascara all down her cheeks. Wonder if putting pillow over head would block out the wolf sounds she makes.

"Jeremy wouldn't stay last night!"

I put my pillow over my head and try desperately to block her out. Just wish someone would stick a sock down her throat.

Oh god. Now another one has joined in. Hate living with these mascara smearing monsters.

"William thinks I'm inconsiderate." Emmy Jones sobs pathetically.

"Will you shut the fuck up?!" Joyce roars.

Never been at her best at five thirty in the morning.

**10.08 am**

Am beginning to think that Jeremy is an evil overlord. Quite tempted to shove a sock down his throat. Not only did he try and persuade me to undertake his four week confidence plan at breakfast, he also refused to listen to my plight for him to be nicer to his girlfriend.

"All I'm asking," I said stifling a yawn, "Is that you be the Prince of bloody charming and don't do anything wrong for a day, so I can get some sleep. Is it such a big ask?"

"You have no idea." He muttered darkly, "I've given her everything she wants in life, except my presence at four in the morning. I had to finish an essay! I don't think she realises some of us actually want to pass seventh year. See, I hadn't started my transfiguration when she came up to me after dinner and started-"

I tuned him out. There's nothing more gruesome than listening to a detailed description of how Kate started acting sexy, or how Kate started being adorable, etc, etc.

Am now at point of coma. Will not wait up for friends tonight. Turned out that Charlie had a political awareness meeting (with a few of her fellow nerdy Ravenclaw and Slytherin activists) and that Joyce had found another young'n to deflower. Stupid friends. Bet they aren't finished their transfiguration.

Well Joyce wouldn't be. Charlie's probably already halfway through our next essay, and we haven't even got it yet. I swear she could organise a platoon of soldiers, proof read my homework and be disgusted by Jack all at the same time. Should aspire to be more like Charlie. Without all the feminist spitfire.

Oh crap. Bell has rung again… Hate journal writing... Makes me late for everything…

**10.23am**

Am frightened to move right now. Am trying not to breathe.

Oh bollocks. Can't the man be sexually unappealing?? Can't he smell like the family owl after it has pecked its way through our rubbish??

Oh god. Hate him. Hate him immensely. At same time want to grab him and snog him. Hate conflicting emotions.

He's being studious again! He's lazing in his chair sexily but writing at break neck speed so he doesn't miss anything McGonagall says. God bless him.

Argh! Why did I have to be late?? Why did the seat next to Remus Lupin have to be the only vacant one?? Argh!! Will stop journal writing immediately. Is massive waste of time and makes me late for class. Is the inanimate object equivalent of Jeremy Lither. Will break several resolutions because of it.

Sirius Black is sniggering on the next desk. Oh god… He hasn't… Seen what I'm writing has he?

**12.09 pm**

Oh fuck… Oh fuck… Oh fuck… Oh fuck wank bugger shitting arse head and hole.

Oh hell. Am doomed. Am going to die. Oh bugger.

Hate Sirius Black more than have ever hated anyone before. Hate him more than Rosie Mercilia and Emmy Jones put together. Oh bloody.

He sent me a note halfway through transfiguration. Oh god I cringe when I think about.

_'Can't the man be sexually unappealing?' Have you ever seen him hung over?_

Oh god. Cringe. Cringe. Cringe. Have broken face due to all the cringing.

I had to send something back. I had to make sure he wouldn't say anything. Oh bollocks.

Black! Why are you sneaking looks at what I'm writing?! Mind your own bloody business!!

He snorted when he read this (the hide) and replied; _is that the colloquial way of asking me not to say anything to him?_

Oh god. Even when the relief washed through me at those words, have enough sense to realise that a measly offer to protect my secret, made on a scrappy bit of parchment will probably not stand with Black.

Yes it is.

_Have you ever even exchanged thirty seconds worth of conversation?_

Felt like royal prat when I read that. Actually, still feel like royal prat.

Yes. Actually we've had about a minute. Two if you include all the doorway conversations we've had.

_Door way conversations?_

Still wondering now why I continued to discuss my infatuation with Remus Lupin with Sirius Black. Am beginning to think he and Jeremy would make good friends. Both have that innate talent to make me say things I'd really rather keep to myself, without any effort at all. Hate them both.

Door way conversations. You know; 'You go first.' 'No, no, really old chap, you go first.'

Sirius was unable to control the volume of his snorting this time and received a petulant glare from McGonagall and a word after class.

_Should I put a good word in for you?_

I grabbed the parchment frantically.

NO! Don't you dare!! You said you wouldn't tell him!!

At this point, the subject of our conversation was raising his eyebrow and looking at us both curiously. Pathetically I blushed and looked away while Sirius made a face similar to that of a two year old and continued to write a response.

_I'm not going to tell him outright you daft idiot. All I'd say (if I was putting a good word in) is something along the lines of; "Mooney chap, have you considered shagging that Isabella Trower recently? She's really panting for it."_

I gasped out loud when I read his reply and scrunched it up into a little ball. How dare he be so vulgar? How dare he?! Shook my head at him furiously and was about to continue writing transfiguration notes when I noticed a towering figure in front of my desk. Looked up and realised McGonagall was standing right in front of me giving me one of those looks I've become accustomed to over the years, and had wanted to give up this year.

Am going to make new resolution; MUST NOT PASS NOTES WITH SIRIUS BLACK IN CLASS!!

Now have detention tonight at eight thirty. Hate Sirius. Am going to die of the endless pit of worry in my stomach right now. Or an oozing ulcer caused by stress at least. What if he tells Remus? I might have exchanged a minute worth of conversation with him, but that note was the most I've ever spoken to Black. Oh God. He will no doubt have told Remus. Will no doubt be laughing stock of the marauders. Damn, Damn, Damn.

**2.07 pm**

Charlie had some advice for me at lunch. Am not sure if it will actually help me at all, but still, it's the thought that counts.

"What you need Bella," She'd said taking a thoughtful sip from her pumpkin juice, "Is a hobby."

Suspected that she was having a dig at me and gave her an incensed look. She rolled her eyes and explained further; "I'm perfectly serious. Right now, the only healthy thing you have taking up your time is school work. You need something else that you're not going to form an unhealthy obsession over. A sport or organisation."

"Don't listen to her Bella; she's trying to get you involved with her political awareness group." Joyce warned.

Charlie threw a bit of bread at her across the table and a food fight ensued between the two of them. I was left to think about my lack of outer school activities.

What could one with such little talent for anything other than eating actually do though? Cannot play musical instrument so cannot join Hogwarts band (was not even aware band existed until a couple of months ago) cannot play gobstones or chess, am not overly enthusiastic about charms, am not part of Slugclub and have not done potions since fifth year, and most significantly am hopeless on broom. Cannot play Quidditch.

And as I've stated at some point I don't even know who the minister of magic is, so there's no hope of me being accepted with open arms into Charlie's political awareness club.

"Who's the minister of magic again?" I asked, making Charlie drop her knife and fork on the ground with a loud clutter.

Honestly. Is not that big a deal that I don't know who minister of magic is.

**7.30 pm**

Oh god. Have got detention in an hour. What if he's told Remus?? Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.

Must find hobby. Will then be able to avoid situations like this one.

"Don't worry about it Bella." Charlie says wisely, "You won't be worried about it in ten years, so what's the point?"

Of course, there is the possibility that I will be worried about it in ten years because I could be married to some loser that trims his nostril hair and wears v-neck sweaters and I will have to blame it all on not securing the love of Remus Lupin in seventh year because he thought I was a freakish stalker.

"Just get over it." Joyce says with a roll of her eyes, "Who cares what the marauders think? Bastards. All men are bastards. Even the younger ones."

Am under impression that she has been rejected by an eleven year old at some point today.

Can't possibly finish homework when am so stressed out. Wonder if house elves have any pudding left from dinner?

**8.20 pm**

AM NOT GOING TO DETENTION WITH SIRIUS BLACK!! AM THROWING SELF OFF ASTRONOMY TOWER INSTEAD!!

**8.25pm**

Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. Oh god. Oh god.

Have to head off to Transfiguration classroom now.

Argh!!

**8.27 pm**

Will put it off for another two minutes and will then run like stink to get there.

**8.28 pm**

Oh god… Think am about to have nervous breakdown…

**8.29 pm**

ARRGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

**11.34 pm**

Huh.

Was right about Sirius being very much like Jeremy. Perhaps should introduce them some time.

I suppose at some point in this entry I am required to mention how my disastrous date with destiny went?

I ran to the Transfiguration classroom as fast as my feet would carry me (which isn't very fast so I ended up being a couple of minutes late.) McGonagall looked pissed but didn't say anything, just directed me to my seat next to Sirius and told me to write "I must not pass notes, as I am a NEWT level student and need to concentrate on my studies," five hundred or so times.

As being bored by trivial things is one of my talents, I was already sick of it by the time I got to my fifteenth line. My worry returned. I snuck a quick look at Sirius whose mouth was upturned in an unmistakeable smirk.

Oh god. I thought, returning to my lines with a shaky hand.

It took about two hours before I was finished all the lines. I finished well before Sirius who looked so bored he looked at the point of comatose.

"Is that all you want me to do Professor?" I asked placing the parchment on her desk.

"Yes, you can return to your dormitory now." She said dismissively.

I snuck another look at Sirius who was only three quarters finished. After dreading seeing him all evening I wasn't keen to leave without making sure that he hadn't told Remus; "Are you sure Professor? There's nothing else you need me to do? At all?"

She looked up at me like I was an idiot; "Leave Miss Trower."

"Yes Professor." I said quickly, rushing out of the classroom. I was annoyed. There was no way I could return to my dormitory and actually sleep. I had to find out whether he'd snitched. I had to. Even if that meant waiting outside in the cold corridor on the pretence of prefect patrolling…

I snorted at the possibility. No. I was going to return to my dormitory and get a good earned sleep and…

I ended up pacing back and forth in the corridor until I heard the sound of a chair scraping. I raced to the middle of the corridor, flung open a broom cupboard, and hurried inside leaving a tiny gap in the door so I would see when Sirius passed.

He strolled out of the classroom casually with a yawn. I rolled my eyes. I was about to have an epileptic fit due to nerves and he was yawning? How dare he?!

He was meters from the broom cupboard. I braced myself and waited until he was in arms reach.

I swung open the broom cupboard and pulled him inside roughly, casting a silentio charm just in case he tried to scream.

"Don't move." I hissed. McGonagall had just exited the classroom, extinguishing the lamps as she went, the echoes of her brisk footsteps fading as she walked away.

With a swish of my wand, Sirius Black was scowling loudly. "Bloody hell woman, I thought you were going to kill me!"

"I might yet." I snapped, "You haven't told Remus have you?"

He looked at me confusedly through the darkness before chuckling; "Is that what this is about?"

Unbelievable. He was actually laughing about the matter.

"Please tell me you haven't told him." My voice sounded incredibly whiny, but I was too panicked by his potential answer to care.

"I haven't told him anything," He said brushing my worries off with a wave of his hand, "Mind you, he'd get a good laugh out of it."

I blushed scarlet. "Oh well thanks muchly!"

"I didn't mean it like that!" He corrected impatiently, "Just, well… You have to admit, what you wrote was pretty darn hilarious."

I scowled, "It's not hilarious when you're the one writing it."

I lowered myself onto the cold stone floor with a huff. Sirius followed my lead, lazing back as if he owned the place.

"So, if you've only ever exchanged two minutes worth of conversation, why are so infatuated? Mooney's not that good looking."

I scowled again, resting my chin on my knuckles, "You're comparing him to yourself I suppose?"

"Naturally." He said, with a full smile, showing off all seventy of his white teeth.

"It's not his looks." I sighed, "It's just his… air. His mannerisms. The way he acts… Everything he does is so… Likable."

I frowned in the darkness; "I suppose he hasn't even got a clue who I am?"

From what I could see, Sirius shrugged impassively, "He knows your name. Actually, he was laughing about you the other night. Something about you being shacked up in a broom cupboard with Jeremy Lither…?"

I resisted the urge to burst out of the broom cupboard, race to the boys' dormitories and torture Jeremy with the cruciatus curse.

"It says a lot about your bravery." Sirius chuckled, "I wouldn't go up against Kate White for any money in the world."

"We weren't doing anything!" I interrupted indignantly, "Incidentally, we were hiding from Kate. She has this ridiculous idea that Jeremy and I are shagging behind her back."

Sirius threw back his head and laughed, "So you decided to hide in a broom cupboard together to prove her wrong?"

"I did say something along those lines to Jeremy." I muttered defensively, "But because he's a stupid prat he didn't think of it before hand."

I opened my mouth to ask if Remus had said anything else about me romantic or otherwise, but then closed it. I realised that I didn't really want to know the answer.

"What?" Sirius asked.

I sighed. Knowing was probably better than not knowing. At least if I knew I could take some action either way, "Well, I mean… Is that all he's ever said about me?"

Sirius sighed and I already knew the answer; "Well, I mean this in the nicest way possible, but I don't think he shares your obsessive infatuation."

I looked down at the ground with a blush.

I should have known that, and deep down somewhere I think I already did. But there was still that hope; the fantasy that secretly he felt the same way about me that I felt about him. Sirius' words had crushed that hope like a fifty tonne boulder.

"It's not like you can't do anything about it." Sirius rectified quickly. "I mean, if you hung around the library a bit. Stayed in his eye line, helped him with homework, talked about Goblin rights or something terribly boring like that – if you just got to know him… Well maybe you'd go from being a blip on his radar to being a great big enemy vessel."

I laughed, "What is it with you boys and navy metaphors?"

"Manliness." Sirius stated matter of factly, "Manliness and the navy go hand in hand."

I laughed again and it suddenly struck me that Sirius Black, despite his marauder reputation, was quite a decent person.

"Come on." Sirius said standing and offering me his hand, "Filch will catch us soon, and you might be a prefect but I've only got to be walking to class for the prat to hang me from his ceiling by my thumbs."

I nodded and took his hand, standing shakily.

We walked in a comfortable silence back to the Hufflepuff common room entrance. I was about to go in but I turned and said; "This conversation never happened, right?"

"Right." Sirius agreed, "But you should keep what I said in mind. Mooney has a thing about girls in the library… I think it might be some kind of kinky fantasy of his to get it on amongst all those books with Madame Pince watching."

Scratch what I said about Sirius being a decent human being. He is vile.

"Maybe I will." I said with a shrug, "I did have a school year resolution to stop mooning over him though."

Sirius snorted, "Yeah, what with all the diary mooning and broom cupboard mooning it seems to be working out quite well."

I rolled my eyes, "You didn't have any resolutions then?"

He snorted again, this time in indignation, "Of course not. I don't even entertain ideas of me working this year."

"You don't need to." I muttered, "You already know it all."

"That's just what I want you to think," He said waggling his eyebrows.

"You won't tell James? Or Peter? Or one of your thousand girlfriends?"

"Your secret's safe." He said with a nod, "Of course it might be even safer if you put a good word in with Emmy Jones for me…"

"Sorry Sirius. Right now, she has an incredibly nice boyfriend who only instigates emotional attacks once a week or so. She'd probably turn into a gushing hose if she went out with you. And I like my sleep too much to let that happen."

He laughed; "Well now that we've crushed each other's self esteems, I'll bid you goodnight."

"Night." I said shaking my head a little.

"Remember: The library." He said before turning and walking back down the corridor.

Am now suffering from conflicting emotions. Both Sirius and Jeremy think I should invest in the library plan. They can't both be wrong! There must be some truth in what they're saying… Mustn't there?

Perhaps I should just ignore that resolution… After all, it's only there for my benefit. What if there is a possibility of going out with Remus Lupin if I take Jeremy and Sirius' advice? That would be for my benefit too wouldn't it?

Oh! Hate confliction emotions.

Okay… Maybe, I should just try and get to know Remus over the next month using Jeremy's plan… And then if it doesn't work, well that's it isn't it? I can stop mooning and get on with life. But I should try at least.

Yes. The worst thing would be not trying.

Am very proud of self.

* * *

**Anyone up for a broom cupboard lounging Sirius Black?? If so, tell me what you thought via the pretty little button. I might send virtual cookies too :)**


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